Twas the night before Christmas
by Sweetdeath04 and MistyRiver
Summary: How do all the families in Star Wars get off with the whole Santa gig? Will eventually include the Solos, Skywalkers, Fetts, Chewies (!) and more! 1st fic together, please R&R!
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **_First of all, we don't own Star Wars, though it's not mentioned in this little prologue-type thing. And, of course, we don't own the poem- all the rights go to Clement C. Moore._

**A.N. **_'Santa Solo' was originally the first chappy, but we decided to redo it slightly, and put the poem that started it all in prime position. We hope it's not illegal to do a totally unoriginal chappy…_

'**Twas the Night Before Christmas…**

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house  
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse,  
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,  
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.  
The children were nestled all snug in their bed,  
While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads,  
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,  
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap...  
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,  
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.  
Away to the window I flew like a flash,  
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.  
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow  
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,  
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,  
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,  
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,  
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.  
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,  
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:  
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!  
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!  
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!  
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"  
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,  
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,  
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,  
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.  
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof  
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.  
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,  
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.  
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,  
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.  
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,  
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.  
His eyes -- how they twinkled -- his dimples how merry!  
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!  
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,  
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.  
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,  
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.  
He had a broad face and a little round belly  
That shook, when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.  
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,  
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.  
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head  
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.  
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,  
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,  
And laying his finger aside of his nose,  
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.  
He sprang to his sleigh, to his teams gave a whistle,  
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.  
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,  
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

_Clement C. Moore_

**A.N. **_Don't worry, the next chapters will be actual fanfic material! No need to review, trot on and read the next chappy…_


	2. Santa Solo

**Disclaimer:** _We don't own anything, anyone, any families, any Santas,_ _anything related to Star Wars, anything related to Christmas… well, apart from MistyRiver's wheelbarrow that she got from Santa! SD04 got coal. Which MistyRiver can steal in her wheelbarrow! OK, uh… basically, we own nothing. Except a wheelbarrow and a piece of coal!_

**A.N.**_ Our first fanfic together (meep!) and probably our last… it's also quite likely to be a complete disaster, but, hey, what ya gonna do. Well… you could always review, hint, hint! So, on with the show! _

**'Twas the night before Christmas...**

**Santa Solo**

"Well,_ I'm_ not going to fit into a suit with this belly!"

"But…. I'm too tall!"

"Who ever said Santa was tiny? And he's a man! Maybe his elves are tiny, but there's no description of Santa being that small!"

"Elves, eh?"

It was Christmas Eve and Han Solo and Leia Organa-Solo were debating who was going to be Santa for their one-and-a-half-year-old kids. Both were determined not to have to wear the suit.

"Do we really _need _to wear the suit? The kids'll surely be in bed."

Leia shook her head sadly. "Ah, but Han, my dear, these are Solo kids. Disaster around every corner."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Leia replied wryly, "that they've got _my_ brains and _your_ mischievousness. Basically, they're smart enough to know how to annoy the heck out of us. They _know_ it's Christmas Eve. They'll be expecting Santa to come, and they'll stop at _nothing_ to catch a glimpse of him, I assure you."

"Point taken. But who's gonna dress up?"

Leia sighed. That man just never learned. "_You_ are, my dear."

Han started sulking. "Aw, but sweetheart, I don't want to!"

Leia cocked her eyebrow and gave him a look that just seemed to ask, _well, why not?_ with a slight air of danger.

Han looked away. "But… okay, well… give me one reason why I have to be Santa."

"One: you're a man. As is Santa. I, funnily enough, am not. You want another reason?"

Han was being beaten, but he refused to go without a fight. "Well, if you have one, then why not!"

"Two: I'm pregnant. It'll be a lot easier for you to pull off that Santa suit without belly that's nearly the same size as the rest of your body. Consider the fact I'm short!"

"Well…" Han trailed off nervously. "I'm not going in there without backup. What can you do?"

Leia laughed. "Who said _I_ was doing anything?" Han looked at her, putting on his best 'oh, I'm so innocent' look that his children had inherited. She faltered. "Well, what can you suggest?"

Han's eyes lit up. "Well, you _did_ say elves were short…"

…

**One minute before midnight on Christmas Eve…**

"I can't _believe_ you talked me into this," Leia whispered harshly, looking anywhere but Han. They were sneaking along the hall towards the lounge where the children had hung their stockings. She was wearing a cute little green get-up… green tights,_ short_ green dress, green _hat_… and Han had used her brightest, reddest lipstick to paint on some little red cheeks. Thoroughly ridiculous, she thought, but Han couldn't be more pleased with his make-up job. Of course, she had persuaded him that Santa needed red cheeks too, but still… she had also dumped half the kitchen supply of flour in his hair and when she was tying on his beard, she couldn't resist twanging the elastic against his face. So now his whole face was red, not just his cheeks. And, man, this suit was _warm_. Leia had eventually reminded him that Santa _was_ supposed to be fat, and she had padded the already-too-thick suit out with bedclothes. Then there was the bag he was carrying over his shoulder. Why did kids just want, want, want? This was only what had been stated in two Christmas letters… he was starting to panic about what he would do when the _third_ child was born… that'd be _three_ letters!

So, here were two _fully grown_ adults, acting… like… well, kids! Han was almost wondering whether he should take a holo-pic of Leia to send to the other Senators!

They reached the door of the lounge, which Leia opened quietly, poking her head inside and looking around cautiously. Seeing that the twins were nowhere to be found, she beckoned to Han to follow her in. She had just reached the stockings when she heard a _crunch _and a loud _"Oof!"_ Fearing the worst, she spun around to find Han staring at her with wide, scared eyes. The sack was stuck in the door. _Stuck. Only a man…_ Leia thought sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She darted over to help him, and after a bit of tugging and pulling, they eventually pulled the bag free. _Man, this can't be good for the baby… _Leia thought woozily, rubbing her head. After a while, they got the bag dragged over to the mantle piece and started unloading the toys. Cuddly Bantha, Model Lightsabre, Mini-Millennium Falcon… well, that ship _had_ become quite famous by now!... etc., etc. They just went on and on and on and on and on and… on and on and on… the sack was like a bottomless pit! They were just separating the toys into the correct stockings when they heard two childish voices yell… "FREEZE! Turn awound wit yor hands up!"

Han and Leia looked at each other and simultaneously turned around with their hands above their heads to face their children, and a toy blaster pointed directly at them. Hang on… that was no toy Jaina was holding!

Jacen looked at the two of them with an air of contempt. He noticed the 'elf's' bulging stomach. "Hey," he cried, "why is the elf so fat?"

Leia was highly offended. "I'm pregnant, _actually_."

Jaina was mystified. "How'd you do that?"

Leia glanced at Han. "Uh… well…"

Han intervened helpfully. "Well, when a man and a woman love each other _very_ much…"

"Like me an Jacen!" Jaina cried, throwing her hands in the air, then steadying the blaster on them again.

"Er… not quite…" Han paused, then picked up where he had left off, "Or they get very, very drunk…"

He was interrupted again. "Like you's gonna be in a minute!" Jacen yelled evilly.

"Uh… right." Han was getting a little scared of his children now. Again, he carried on what he had started. "Or they decide to have what we adults call a 'one-night-stand…'"

It was too much for Leia. She gave Han a kick in the shins. "_Shut up, Ha- I mean, Santa!"_

"What, dear?"

Leia was staring blaster bolts at him "_They're too young to discover the facts of life!_"

"But we already know!" The twins said together.

"_What_? Who told you?" Han and Leia stared at them in disbelief, waiting for an answer.

"Daddy!"

"Oh…" Leia looked at Han, smiling. "_Daddy _told you, did he? Well, be happy your mummy doesn't know… she might get very cross!"

Han took her meaning.

"Okay. Santa," said Jacen with an air of command, "dwink." He pointed at the small shot glass (filled to the brim, mind you…) sitting on the fireplace. Han shuffled across slowly and lifted the drink to his lips, giving it a sniff first. It smelled like… brandy! How in the world did his kids get alcohol?

Downing it in one gulp, he felt it burn the back of his throat, and before it reached his gullet, he realised that this was no ordinary brandy… it was _Thikkiian_ brandy! No reason to worry, it was only one of the most potent Wookiee drinks in the galaxy! Han's head started to spin. I'm going to have one heck of a hangover tomorrow… he thought blearily as he sank to the ground drooling. At least it was only one shot-glass…

"More!" Jacen pulled a bottle of the stuff from behind his back. "Santa dwink more, aw Santa be sowwy," he grinned maliciously.

Han was confused. "How did you kids _get _this stuff, anyway?"

"Uncie Chewie!" They cried in unison.

_Oh. I should have known. _

Han staggered over, clutching the shot-glass. "No," Jacen said impatiently, "Santa dwink out of _this_," he continued, holding out the bottle. Han's pupils shrank, then grew, then shrank, then, grew, and continued like that for a little while. When his eyes calmed down enough for him to see the bottle, he grabbed it from his son, eyeing the blaster Jaina was still holding. He only hoped it wasn't full… unlike this bottle. He lifted the bottle to his mouth, knowing he wouldn't be able to see straight for a week…

…

After Han had drunk the whole bottle of Wookiee brew, he couldn't see _anything, _let alone his children.

But they weren't about to quit and leave Han and Leia alone to put out the presents.

"Santa, aren't you supposed to come down the chimney?" They asked with the utmost innocence.

"Yes, of course," Han mumbled, sounding distant, and his words were badly slurred. He never even stopped to consider what these toddlers would make him do next.

"Well, why didn't you come down it then? You should do it wight!"

Han gaped at the part of the room he thought they were. This just happened to be about three metres to the left of them. Leia held her head in her hands, knowing no good would come of this.

"Well? Whaddaya waiting faw? Get up there!"

…

A few minutes later, Han found himself on the roof of the house, beside the chimney. He had no recollection of actually going up there, though, which scared him slightly. He heard two voices calling up the chimney to him.

"Come down the chimney, Santa! Huwwy up!"

Han sighed. The brandy meant he could barely understand Basic- even his own thoughts were blurred. But he was sure of the fact that, at some point of time not to far away, he was going to black out- and _that_ wouldn't be pretty. Well, so was the reputation of Wookiee alcohol! He dragged himself over to the top of the chimney. Well, it seemed wide enough to fit through- although he couldn't actually _see_ it clearly- but his leg found its way through the top and he tried to wriggle the rest of his body through. _Oh no_, he thought suddenly, _what if they light a fire? _He stopped and listened as hard as his alcohol-affected eardrums would allow. Well, it didn't _seem _to be getting any hotter… and he couldn't hear anything except those two annoying little voices chanting "San-ta! San-ta! San-ta!" Well, he might as well give it a try. He wiggled, and wiggled, and wiggled until he was halfway down and could wiggle no more. "I'm coming, kids!" He cried blearily. The darkness of the chimney around him seemed to be seeping through him, consuming his brain… darkness, everything was turning black… and, with a last dribble, Han Solo slipped into unconsciousness.

…

**The next morning…**

Leia looked down at the newspaper in front of her. _Wow, news really travels fast…_ she thought savagely. The headline read: **'SANTA SOLO GETS STUCK IN THE CHIMNEY OF HIS OWN HOME!'**

The papers were having a field day. After realising Han couldn't get out of the chimney if left to his own resources, Leia had sent a message to the Emergency Services. They had arrived within a few minutes, and they had news reporters trailing along behind them. After nearly an hour of pulling, pushing, winching, and almost knocking down the chimney, they had finally dragged Han out from his sooty prison. He was now lying in his bunk, snoring the house down, and Leia knew that when he woke up he wouldn't remember a thing. Well, maybe it was for the best. _Perhaps, just perhaps, I can persuade him to be Santa again next year_, she thought as she folded the newspaper up.

**A.N.** _Well, whaddaya think? Sounds like fun, eh? We are aware that there's probably no such thing as Christmas- or Santa, for that matter- in the Star Wars galaxy, but, heck, it's our story and we'll do what we like with it! PLEASE R&R, it's the only thing that keeps us alive! Next chapter will be up a.s.a.p., which may take a few years, but thanks for reading! _

_**Sweetdeath04 and MistyRiver**_


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